


Observations of a lost man

by Stampette



Category: The Following
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-21
Updated: 2013-04-21
Packaged: 2017-12-09 01:35:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/768447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stampette/pseuds/Stampette
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Claire watches Jacob, he intriguing her. A distant young man to a friend of her son, the shift taking place over mere seconds. These are thoughts and feelings on her study of him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Observations of a lost man

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, my first in this fandom and on this site, though am under the same pename at fanficton.net where i am trying to complete my unfinished works before publishing any more- if any of you know me from there (not likeley). Summary was pretty shit but i hope you enjoy and feel free to comment at your leaisure :) Natrually this is not mine and am also english so use english spellings and only i proofread so sorry for mistakes x

Claire watched Jacob carefully. When she’d been wandering around the house she’d heard rumours- he hadn’t killed before. He wasn’t strong enough, not a true follower. It was all hushed when he came round the corner or stepped into the room because of course Joe favoured him somewhat. But that wasn’t what she noticed most. It was not the whisperings and falsehoods of the cult. She was sure he had killed, heard him mention something about Paul. After all if he was not a killer he would not have been so physical before, they made him sound weak. The young man before her held a dark aura. Maybe it was the crisp clothing; perfectly stylized hair that had only made him look more the part of a gay neighbour but also highlighted a meticulous manner, an aloofness that she had begun to associate with his words and actions. Maybe it was the way his blue eyes screamed ‘trust me I’m harmless’ but quickly turned cold and distant in an instance, shutting himself off with a cool detached air. She did not know.

There was a rumour he’d been going out with Emma, Emma who was so discretely trying to hide her affair with Joe, Emma who looked like a frightened rabbit whenever Jacob walked in the room and glared at her as though his looks could vaporize her, who stared at her until she turned away, hands shaking and left the room. In such a small place, despite the mansions size, the cult had started more rumours. Ones of Jacob telling Emma Paul's death was her fault, that Paul was his first- his first kill, his first male partner. Jacob threatening to break Emma’s small frame with just his fists. You name it- the cult lived of gossip almost as much as they lived off a kill. Yet Claire knew her son really liked Jacob, far more than he liked Emma. Jacob was the one who he ran up to with large hugs, being swung around. Who played video games and ruffled the younger boy’s hair. This was a different Jacob, not the killer who was controlled by Joe but a young man who was trying to connect with a boy who was way out of his comfort zone. This was a side of him she didn’t mind seeing.

Sometimes Claire feels like Jacob know she is watching him, sometimes he turns his eyes to her curios gaze and stares back emotionless. He isn’t annoyed in these instances, merely displays the same curiosity as she does. Naturally there is a rumour that they are sleeping together but that was squashed by both Joe and Jacob- the latter who gave the main culprits a few bruises and scars. Then whenever Jacob was acting like a normal person, as normal as any of the cult could be, he'd worry her by grinning at the sight of the wounds he inflicted, gazing over them with surgical precision. He knew where to hit, what would hurt, what would kill, how to do the most damage and this survey, assessing, of his work reminded her that he was proud of it. Unlike the others Jacob seemed controlled and calm in his rage, knowing exactly what he wanted to do. 

She’d seen one of his fights before, it was a small scuffle in the middle of the day. Very few people were about. Someone had made some of hand comment about Jacob being a lapdog. In return he sat down next to the man, taken a sharp object of some kind and stabbed at the man’s leg. There was little blood, the act was clean and the man did not get up as Jacob twisted a finger into the wound. Jacob had smiled threateningly, his eyes glinting darkly- though not in a psychopathic way, and asked him to repeat the statement. The man had done so and with a small knife Jacob had made thin, short cuts over a now snaking man’s arms and neck. He’d smiled, manically now, and looked over his work. ‘Clean him up’ was all that was said. Then the young man walked confidently out of the room. Safe to say he was not challenged openly gain and the man had disappeared.

It was weird to think that the cookie cutter poster boy was some kind of evil person. But Claire didn't truly believe that- she had seen how much he truly cared for her son, not just the façade he displayed for the other members. Ryan had told her about him, good grades but dropped out of medical school. The boy had been smart but clearly the man was lost. She’d see him sometimes, staring out the window with a pain in his eye, the blue eyes almost glistening before the moisture disappeared- this was a weakness after all. Sometimes when joey asked where Paul was, he had not been given an actual answer as such; Jacob would pause and maybe brush it off. Or sometimes he would say that ‘we’ll see him soon’ or ‘he couldn’t make it today’ as though Paul was only late for a meeting. Claire was not fooled. He looked so broken in these moments, she was sure the other male was dead but there were details, so many details, that she had not been told. 

Slowly she began to gain more information about the young adult who only wore muted colours. Small things like the fact he would always make her a coffee how she liked it in the mornings like room service, but brushed off her questions about it as he drank his tea. She assumed he was trying to make her feel more at home. It had scared her at first but now she was used to his stoic presence watching over her and felt almost a kinship with him. They were both lost in their own ways and sometimes, just sometimes, she would see him in a light one would a friend- when he cracked a joke, tried to keep her smiling. These occurrences were rare but a breather from the 'I don’t mind being held hostage by my ex-husband' act she had mastered. She had asked him a series of random questions one day, the usual ‘meet your partner’ stuff that colleagues go through to ‘bond’. He had just looked at her with eyes that pierced through her soul and ignored her final questions they watched joey kick a ball around.

“You know Paul was dying. So I took a pillow, knelt over and suffocated him, he asked me to, told me he loved me and would only slow me down, he would die anyway. His body jerked and his nails clutched at my arms.” He pulled up the sleeves of a soft dark blue jumper to reveal scars. “But he had already told me not to stop. And then his movements did. That was it, so simple an easy. Death.” He smiled a little to himself. “ My dad’s a doctor and he would have turned me over instead of saving him, my own mother was afraid of me. They are sensible Claire; they know I’m a monster. You don’t seem to realise that this is what I and this household are. Yes I didn’t want to kill him but now I want to kill others, one taste and I was addicted. You forget you’re in the lion’s den. Don't do anything too stupid- we won't save you.” that was the most he’d ever said to her in his low tones, especially in one go. She watched as he walked of nonchalantly, giving her no time to reply, hands in pockets. But she could only think one thing. He thought he was a monster, but he wasn’t completely cold hearted and he looked out for her and her son. That was good enough for now. It would have to be.


End file.
